Torchwood: The Collar
by Bloodsong 13T
Summary: The Doctor is in town, but of course he couldn't phone up, could he? To find him, Jack needs to cross into the realm of Faerie, but they don't just let humans in there. Not unless someone owns them. (Read the Intro; it's not as S&M-y as it appears.)
1. The Gateway

**Torchwood: The Collar**

Overall Content:

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Comedy

Romance/Pairing: none (you can read in the ones you want)

Language: some

Violence: minor

Nudity: brief (m, f)

Sex: mild (m/m m/f); situations, themes

Other: BDSM is discussed

Gratuitous Jack Deaths: 0/0

**Introduction**

This is a fluff and nonsense sort of story I threw together, based on a dream I had. It has some plot threadbareness. I mostly put it here for a friend to read, but... she never did. Oh well, it has it's funny and dramatic moments, so I like it, anyway. If you're allergice to Marysuism (if that's even a word), you might want to run away. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with a strong female character who knows martial arts. Oh, and none of the canon characters like her, anyway. :P

It features the 10th Doctor (at a time he is currently companion-less), and Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood (early Series 2). It does not follow Dr Who/Torchwood canon concerning fae and other magical creatures. Instead, I used more of a Rosemary Edgehill/Laurel K Hamilton/HellBoy II take on the subject.

NOTE: Despite the title and other implications, there is really very little BDSM in the story; just mild D/s. So, if you were looking for that... not here. If that was scaring you off, fear not!

WARNING: There are a few questions this story leaves unanswered. Yes, on purpose. You'll have to deal with it, Cat is an annoyingly enigmatic character. You may speculate!

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about geography in general and less about Cardiff and Wales. I made up the hotel and its name. I wanted something with some sort of deep meaning, but my Brain named it Galway. No clue what that means. I am also not responsible for what my Brain comes up with when I'm awake, let alone when I am asleep! If you want to see more bizarre Torchwood dreams that came out of my Brain, check out "Traffic Stop" under Torchwood Clips.

* * *

**Part 1: The Gateway**

===#===

There was one hell of a perception filter on the arbor.

It was a natural redwood arbor on the grounds of the Galway Hotel, only slightly incongruous in its placement over the walkway leading to the west entrance. Jack doubted anyone strolling along the walkway even noticed it. He hadn't noticed it until the figure he was following disappeared through it without coming out the other side.

He hadn't seen the gangly figure's face, but the build was right, and who the hell else would wear ugly red and white tennis shoes with a brown suit? So Jack had trotted to catch up and had gone through the arbor. And came out on the same sidewalk. Frowning, he turned around and went back through it, earning some curious glances from a couple heading for the hotel.

He tried again with the same results, so he circled around outside the arbor and went back through. Not to be daunted by failure, he circled the other way and tried again. By this time, there was a small clump of people at the foot of the walkway who were seriously considering using the other door. A hotel security guard came down from the west wing.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Do you see that arbor?" Jack pointed at it, even though the guard was actually standing halfway in it.

The man turned his head and blinked, clearly startled to notice it. Like most enlightened, rational human beings when faced with an incongruity, he totally missed the significance. "What about it?"

"Yeah, I think I dropped a fiver near here. Do you see it?" While the helpful guard studied the grass, Jack flipped open his wrist-com and scanned the arbor.

It was a perfectly normal arbor on a perfectly normal sidewalk.

The guard had to give up on Jack's lost bill, so the captain thanked him with a friendly smile and left. The guard went back inside, and Jack circled around to loiter under a tree near a bus stop bench. He fumed there for half an hour. Wasn't that just like the Doctor to come to town and not even drop by! Grand sophisticated Time Lord technology, and he couldn't even phone up?

All of the people passing through the arbor looked perfectly ordinary. Occasionally, one or two would disappear into the gateway, but he couldn't see how they were activating it.

Finally, someone came out of the arbor, a figure Jack recognized. He bit back a curse. It wasn't the Doctor, it was Cat.

Cat was... well, truth be told, he didn't know what. She looked like a perfectly ordinary human female of indeterminate adult age. Average height, average weight, plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, plain white oval face, ordinary jeans, baggy black hoodie, and large sunglasses. Absolutely unremarkable in any way. IE: Highly suspicious. Especially when she started hanging around the tourist shop.

He figured her for a government operative or alien creature trying to spy on Torchwood. At first, he tried to play nice, use his charm on her. For some reason, that only provoked hostility. So then he tried intimidation. The less said about those disastrous results, the better. He found out (the hard way) that Cat had some kind of military Special Forces or Martial Arts training.

Then Toshiko had put together bits of information and CCTV footage and figured out that Cat was a homeless person, living in a nearby alley, and that her story about hanging out in the tourist shop to cool off in the air conditioning was probably true. Not that that precluded her being an alien or a spy! But all right, putting paranoia aside, Jack decided to retcon her and let her go. Except somehow, she'd managed to escape. They'd tried lacing pizza leftovers with the retcon, but only ever ended up with a lot of bewildered-looking rats hanging around the nearest dumpster.

He'd tried to keep tabs on her, but she'd disappeared a couple of weeks ago. And nothing bad had ever come of it. No enemy agent incursions, no alien infiltrations. No headlines in the local tabloids. Cat had never done anything to harm Torchwood. She only fought when they tried to detain her. So asking her about the gateway wasn't a _completely_ daft plan. Besides, Jack's motto was 'Maybe I'll get lucky.'

He trotted to catch up with the hooded figure. He was careful not to run up on her, so he was out of kicking range when she whirled, partly-crouched in a fighting stance. "Whoa! Don't kill me." He held his empty hands out. "I just want to talk."

Surely the dark sunglasses blocked her glare. And he wasn't empathic, so he was sure he imagined the hostility radiating from her. "What do you want?" She uncoiled and resumed walking.

Jack fell in beside her. "I want to get in there." He gestured at the hotel.

"So go in there. I'm not stopping you."

"I mean the _other_ there. The one through the arbor."

She shot him a sidewise glance.

"Don't deny it; I saw you come out of there."

"Why would you want to go in there?"

"My friend went in there."

She shrugged. "Get your friend to take you."

"I would, but he's in there, and I'm stuck out here."

"Is your friend human?"

"Actually... no." He hesitated to admit it, but what the hell. She already knew about Torchwood, and was probably an alien herself.

She chewed this over a moment, apparently not having expected that answer. "All right. But why would I help you?"

Jack smiled. "If you get me in there and help find my friend, I'll stop trying to retcon you."

"Feh," she scoffed. "Like that will ever work."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But even someone with a paranoid lifestyle such as yourself might find it somewhat of a relief not to have to suspect every single thing you drink. Or eat. Or breathe."

"Fine." She started to turn back, but he stopped her.

"Wait. That's it?" It could not possibly be this easy. "You're just going to help me? Just like that?" He frowned suspiciously.

She tilted her head, the glare from the sun sliding across her dark glasses. "Why, are you lying about this offer?"

"No." It was pretty much a moot point anyway. It'd been a couple of months since she'd disappeared, making the retcon dosage a bit chancy. Actually, if she forgot the Hub's location, she would stop avoiding it, and might even stumble upon it again. She hadn't done anything damaging with the information, and it seemed less and less likely that she would. He wouldn't lose anything by offering this deal. "No, I'm serious. No more retcon." He raised his right hand solemnly. "I promise. I just thought you'd take more convincing."

"In that case, you can add on that you'll stop harassing me."

"We're not-"

"Stop trying to catch me, stop spying on me, knock off the ridiculous alien questions already. Close the X-file on me."

"We don't have X-files. You've been watching too much American television."

Cat folded her arms stubbornly. "And the spy cameras everywhere?"

He shrugged innocently. "The government put them there for police use, not us. Torchwood is outside the government, be-"

"Save your speech for the press."

He put up his hands. "All right, look. You help me find this guy, and I promise we'll leave you alone."

"Fine. I can get you in. But you won't like it."

"I don't care about that, I just want to find my friend." If Cat did somehow try to double-cross him, it wouldn't be anything he and the Doctor couldn't handle.

"Very well." She turned back towards the hotel. Instead of going to the west entrance, she headed for the main doors.

"This isn't the way to the gate," Jack said.

"We have to go here first."

He shrugged and followed. "All right. Out of curiosity, why am I not going to like this?"

"Because you have to wear a collar."

Jack stopped dead. "You're kidding me."


	2. The Collar

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: mild D/s, discusses sadism briefly

_Author's Notes:_

the ring on the collar is supposed to be welded, but, ah, they're not doing *that* of course.

* * *

**Part 2: The Collar**

===#===

Cat's hotel room on the second floor was not very big. One bed, one bath, a small bedside table and a writing desk by the window. "Can I ask how a homeless person can afford a hotel room?" Jack asked her as he followed her in.

"No."

"I'm going to guess this isn't an ecclesiastical convention," Jack harped. "What is it, an intergalactic BDSM party?"

"Take off your coat," was all Cat said. "Sit down."

There wasn't anywhere to hang the coat, so Jack folded it and laid it on the bed, then sat down at the foot. "And why do I have to wear the collar? Why can't I be the dom?"

Cat took off her hood and sunglasses, and fished a sports bag out from under the desk. "Because you're a human." She plunked the bag on the desk and unzipped it.

"Annnnnd you're _not_! Oh, that's right, I've only been saying that all along." He thought he should feel more triumphant than he did. But something clanked in Cat's bag and he wondered about what sort of... toys might be in there. He didn't mind a bit of 'exotic' foreplay, but the thought of wearing a slave collar, out in public on the hotel grounds, didn't sit well with him at all. He did his best not to show it. "You have one of those black leather collars?" he asked flippantly. "The kind with the big spikes? I want some really big phallic spikes."

"No."

Jack's stomach soured. It must be metal. Leather was warm, it had some give. Hell, it made a nice punk accessory. Metal was cold and heavy, and it meant business. "I'm not wearing an iron collar out on the street. Can't we wait until we get there to put it on?"

"No," said Cat. "And I don't use collars that cover the throat." She came over.

"Why not?"

"Because they cover the throat," she explained obstinantly. Maybe she was a vampire? That might explain her prediliction for black, the dark sunglasses, and the bulky hooded sweatshirt on a warm September day. But no, popular twinkle-vampires nonwithstanding, she'd spontaneously combust under direct sunlight. "Hold still," she said, breaking his chain of thought. "I need to measure this."

Jack flinched because it looked for a moment like a white garrote. But it was a chain she looped over his neck. It was silver, with flat links that were either seriously heavy-duty jewelry or lightweight industrial chain. "I'm not wearing a choke chain," he growled.

"It's not a choke chain," she said with the careful patience of one losing patience. "Honestly, you don't need to be quite so tense."

"I'm not tense."

She withdrew the chain and glanced down pointedly before turning back to the desk.

Jack looked down at his hands resting on the bed on either side of him. He unclenched his fingers and smoothed out the wrinkles he'd made in the counterpane. Right. He looked to see what she was doing. It involved metal rings and heavy duty pliers. "So what letter are you?"

"Hm?"

"You know, the B, the D, the S and the M?"

"I'm a sadist."

Oh, brilliant! Jack laughed humorlessly. "Of course!" Ianto would chew his head off for this plan. Probably he shouldn't tell him.

"I'm not a pathological sadist," she growled, shooting a dark look over her shoulder. "I only torture people with their full consent."

"Yeah, exactly when did I give my consent for you to kick my ass?"

"That," she shot back tartly, "was self-defense." Jack rolled his eyes, but she continued. "You point a gun at someone, that's assault with a deadly weapon. I'm within my rights to defend myself with lethal force."

Well. She had him there.

"I'm not giving you permission, either," Jack said. "I'm only agreeing to this masquerade to get in there. That doesn't mean you can start... doing things to me."

"Of course not." She sounded sincere in her conviction.

Jack untensed another notch. Sadists weren't necessarily evil. Oh, there were some without consciences, who preyed upon innocent, unwilling people. But by and large, most of them were strict adherents to the code of Safe, Sane, and Consensual. Jack frowned in thought a moment. "If I find out there are aliens abducting humans as unwilling slaves, it's my duty - and Torchwood's - to put an end to it."

"I won't stop you."

Oh, that sounded bad. "Will you help me?"

Cat turned around, the chain collar in one hand and two pairs of pliers in the other. She leaned back against the desk and gave him a level look. "I'm afraid in this particular case, I am unable."

Jack chewed his lip in thought. At least she was forthright. At any rate, the Doctor would be there. With Jack's help, he shouldn't have any trouble dealing with an intergalactic slaving ring. "All right, fair enough."

"In order to ensure your safety," she said, coming over to him; "you have to follow these rules: Don't eat anything. Don't drink anything. Don't accept anything from anyone..." As she recited the Paranoid's Guide to Living in Dangerous Times, Jack bowed his head so she could put the chain over the back of his neck. Until she got to the part: "Don't tell anyone your true name. Don't insult-"

Jack recognized that, and it wasn't paranoia! He grabbed her wrist. "You're fae!"

She slitted her eyes and snarled at him, "Let go of me."

"No, no, no." Jack stood up, pushing her arm away and trying to back towards the door. He knew he was in serious danger this close to her and pissing her off, but getting his neck snapped was a far sight better than getting collared by the fae. And he was mad. "You forgot the first rule of dealing with the fae - do not _ever_ trust them!" He shoved her away so he could get clear. If he could get a couple meters distance, he might be able to use his gun.

She kept her footing easily, but didn't press an attack. "You came to me," she growled. "The door's right there!"

Jack backed up a few more steps. He felt a little safer in the cramped litle hallway - at least his flanks weren't exposed. He didn't go for his weapon, as she didn't seem interested in pursuing him. He _had_ asked her; she hadn't been hunting him. But that didn't mean she wouldn't take advantage of the situation. "Why didn't you tell me the gateway led to the Otherland?"

She folded her arms, tucking the pliers under one bicep. The chain still dangled from her other hand. "You know I'm not allowed to tell you that."

Jack didn't know that, but considering the secrecy and geases protecting that information, he wouldn't be surprised. "What magic is on that collar?"

"There's no magic on it." She sounded as if she were telling the truth. But how could one tell with the fae? Some lore said they couldn't lie - not outright. But what if _that_ were a lie?

Let's not dance around the point. "Why are you trying to enslave me?"

Her brows shot up. "You're joking." She stared at him half a minute, but he didn't back down. "Enslave you? _You?_ I don't even like you!"

Jack did some mental juggling. Of course, if a sadist enjoyed inflicting pain on people, they'd... pick people they liked. Unlike, say, a 'normal' person, who'd only hurt someone they despised. He shook his head. "You seem to enjoy beating me up well enough."

Cat flinched and flushed with - was that guilt? She turned away quickly, returning to the desk. "Aren't you escaping?" she griped.

Oh, _now_ he could see what was going on here. It might not be the same as charming, seducing, or intimidating, but any conman worth his salt knew all about _baiting_. Just like bear-baiting. Trick was, make sure the bear doesn't win. "Oh no," he said, stepping back into the room. "We had a deal."

She turned to him in annoyance. "What happened to rule number one?"

He shook a finger. "Rule Number One still applies. But a very careful person can make a deal with the fae." Cat groaned and put a hand over her face. Jack grinned. "I'm not clear on all the rules about lying, but I do know this: fae can't break promises without dire consequences. Promise me there's no magic or anything out of the ordinary on this collar."

"I promise, this is an ordinary silver metal collar. Actually, it's sterling."

"Tell me why I have to wear it. Why can't I just go as a normal, free human being?"

"It's to protect you." She leaned back against the desk. "If people see you're wearing my collar, they can't just take you. If you're unclaimed, that makes you fair game."

Jack pursed his lips. That made sense. And these weren't aliens - they didn't have to slip drugs into food or drink. Just accepting a simple cup of water from the fae could make you beholden to them. And while his body could flush drugs from his system rapidly, he had no defense against illusion or mind-control.

"Keep in mind, it won't prevent them from trying to take you from me. If you do something wrong, if you offend anyone, I'll have to allow reparations."

Shit. "All right. Promise me you won't harm me or try to detain me, or anything else that might put a crimp in my lifestyle."

"I promise, I will guard you from harm and bring you safely back here."

"Sometime this century," Jack griped. "No, wait, the century is still young, and you might take me literally."

Cat sighed. "The room is only paid through the weekend. We should be back by then."

"Promise me."

She thought about it a minute. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"There are too many possible mitigating circumstances. Variables I can't control."

"Like what?"

"I don't know..." She searched for examples. "If you somehow insult someone - if it's a dokkalfar, you're in luck. They'll probably just want you whipped. If it's liosalfar..." She shrugged. "They'll be more humanitarian and probably just demand service for five or ten years."

"You're supposed to protect me from harm."

"There's a practical limit on how well I can do that if you make a mistake. You won't be permanantly damaged."

"Considering who you're talking to, that doesn't exactly fill me with confidence." A thought struck Jack, a very bad thought. "They can't find out I'm immortal."

"No kidding," said Cat, clearly with him on that one. "They'd _freak_."

===#===

The parameters of the 'mission' settled to a reasonable amount of safety, Jack sumitted to having the collar put on him. A single one-inch ring - exactly like the ones used on a dog's choke collar - fastened the two ends together. Jack sat on the bed, his head tipped back, so Cat could close the ring with the pliers. The metal was thick, it took a good deal of strength.

When it was on, the chain rested snugly at the base of his neck, the ring at the hollow of his throat. The links were flat, they didn't poke into his skin. It didn't take long for his body heat to warm them, and after a minute, it was almost as if he weren't wearing a collar at all. He touched the chain, the metal smooth under his fingertips. The links were close-set, but they didn't pinch at all. Hell, this was one comfortable collar. It was even so thin and low, it was nearly covered by his t-shirt.

Cat told him he couldn't take his gun, so he relinquished it, and she locked it in the room safe. "Do you remember the rules? You seemed to be falling asleep during that part."

"Yes, yes." Annoyed, Jack recited sarcastically. "No eating or drinking, no names, yadda yadda. I know how to deal with fae."

"And don't insult anyone." Cat's tone was just as annoyed.

"What makes you so sure I'll insult someone?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe your charming arrogance? You winning egotism? Possibly your utterly annoying personality?"

"I knew you secretly liked me!" Jack grinned as she rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know, most everyone - excluding possessive boyfriends and husbands - find me most agreeable. Normal people, I mean."

"Mm hm."

"I can be a perfect gentleman when I put my mind to it."

"Can't wait to see that," she said drolly. She forestalled his retort with a gesture and looked him in the eye. "In order to ensure your safety, if I give you a command, you must obey immediately."

He sobered. He didn't like that part, but he nodded. "I understand."

For a moment, Cat seemed to hesitate upon a decision. Then she relented and let out a breath. She looked him in the eye again. "If I touch you on the shoulder, you have to kneel down."

He _really_ didn't like that part. He grimaced. "Fine."

"Hopefully, we won't have to do any of that." She turned to grab her sunglasses.

"Is there anything else humiliating I need to do?" Jack asked bitterly. "Wear a harness? If there's a codpiece, I want a really huge one. Cuffs? A gag?"

"That one's tempting, but no." She brushed past him. "Let's go. Take your coat if you like."

Jack blinked. He scooped his coat off the bed and followed. Well, if he couldn't carry a gun, at least the familiar weight of the greatcoat would be comforting. "Am I going to have to call you 'Mistress,' too?"

"My title is Master."

"I thought all female dommes were Mistresses."

"I don't care for all that sibilance," she said. "The definitive R ending is much stronger. Besides, a mistress is also a woman a man keeps on the side. Hardly a position of power."

"Yeah, I was going to say, 'I always wanted a mistress.'" Jack grinned.

She just gave him a cold, evil glare until his smile withered.

"It's just a joke," he said defensively. She continued to glare, until he worried she was about to go for his throat. "Right... serious sadist. I get it!"

"Try not to be a bigger dick than usual."

Jack sighed. She really did know how to kill all hope of a fun time.


	3. Entrance

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: Jack gets sexually harassed (mild)

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

The part with the arbor and the concierge is right from the dream.

Sebastian is neither Sebastian from Black Butler nor Sebastian from Anne Bishop's novel. But her concept of an incubus is what I'm leaning towards, here. Her Sebastian is much nicer than this guy. And I happen to like that name.

* * *

**Part 3: Entrance**

===#===

This time, going through the arbor was like passing through an energy curtain. Beyond was another world. It had the same structure - the walkway, the Galway Hotel - but the sunlight was more golden, the colours and textures richer. Jack felt a faint tingle as he passed through the gateway, nothing more.

The effect on Cat was much more dramatic. She rippled with energy and _changed_. She was taller; her hair thickened into a black mane. Where it fell down her back, it broke into a black and rust-orange pattern, like tiger stripes. The ordinary clothes transformed into a form-fitting black outfit reinforced with leather armor pads. Leather straps, cords, and a variety of decorations hung from the belt, shielding her legs. A sword was slung low on her left hip. The motorcycle boots and half-fingered leather gauntlets also blended from black to tiger-striped at the extremes.

"Nice glamour," Jack commented dryly.

"Heh heh."

He frowned at her faint chuckle. "...What?"

"You're so funny."

Oh. Of course! Feeling a bit stupid, he decided to needle her about it. "Nine inch spike heels would work better."

"Ever try to walk in those?"

"I'm thinking of a tight leather corset." Fantasizing about, more like.

"I'll be sure to try to find you one."

Jack winced. She was serious. Probably he should shut up now.

They entered the west rotunda, which was built of faceted crystal glass and ornate gilt columns. A number of exotic people milled about.

"Wait here while I check in," Cat said quietly to him.

Jack relaxed and took in the sights - and of course kept his eye out for the Doctor. As he scanned over a group of gorgeous people, one of them caught his eye. He was pale with lavender eyes and silver hair. He appeared to be carved of white marble, well-muscled and lean, like one of Michelangelo's Dying Slaves. His faintly lavender-tinged lips parted in a smile at Jack.

Jack felt a warm glow and smiled back. The pale adonis walked towards him. _He seems friendly_, Jack thought, bemused. Without any regard for his personal space, the alfar came over and pressed himself against Jack's left side and started stroking his chest. _Very friendly!_ He might look like cold marble, but he radiated heat right through Jack's coat.

"Sebastian," Cat growled warningly from the nearby concierge desk.

"How much do you want for him?" Sebastian asked.

"He's not for sale."

Sebastian's hand roamed lower. "I'll give him back," he wheedled.

"He's not for rent, either."

The damned alfar didn't care about him, all he was interested in was getting a piece of meat. Grade A Prime to be sure - but still! Jack tried to move back, step away from the alfar pawing him, but his limbs didn't seem to want to obey. He tried to protest, but his tongue wouldn't obey either.

Sebastian's hand reached Jack's belt, drawing heat with it as it slid lower. Suddenly -

_smack!_

Cat lashed out and struck Sebastian's hand with - was that a riding crop!? Where'd she get a riding crop, and what was he doing laying about with it so close to a very tender portion of his anatomy that might have been... in the way?

Sebastian backed up, bristling like a cat sprayed with water. He even hissed, low. Whatever glamour had been holding Jack broke, and he stumbled back slightly.

"How dare you strike me, exile!" Sebastian snarled.

Cat moved closer, threateningly. "Is that a challenge?" Here eyes flickered with a golden gleam.

Sebastian looked away quickly. "No. No, of course not." He spared one last withering look at Jack, his lip curled with a sneer. "What a waste." He turned and left.

"What's he mean by that?" Jack asked as he moved closer to the concierge after Cat. And what was all that about an exile?

"Nothing." She took something from the concierge desk, keys perhaps.

The tall, long-faced fellow with deep black skin behind the counter told her, "Do keep a tight leash on him." He looked down his nose at Jack.

"Come on." Cat turned away and headed for the inner doors.

"Leash?" Jack asked, reflexively touching the metal ring at his throat. Perfect for clipping on leashes. Oh no! He hadn't signed on for that!

"It's just a figure of speech," she assured him. "Make sure you stay close, at my left shoulder."

"And who was that guy?"

"Sebastian. He's an incubus."

"Seriously?" Interesting. "And those?" Jack's eye caught on a trio of long-legged, buxom beauties. "Are they succubi?"

"Yes."

Oh ho! Jack smiled at them. But Cat put a damper on that. "You don't want them. They have teeth."

"Yeah... Wait. You mean teeth... _there?_" He pulled his eyes off the sexy chicks and caught up the few steps he'd lagged behind while gawking. "But they don't have to bite, do they?"

"Biting is the reason for their existence. Perhaps you'd like to keep your eyes down."

Yes, that would make him look submissive. But she hadn't ordered him to do it, so he ignored the suggestion.

They passed into the Grand Hall. The place was filled with monsters, exotic people, and creatures of all kinds. Jack was starting to feel rather shabby and ordinary. Still, he was getting a lot of lingering looks. Some of them were hungry looks. Jack cricked his neck slightly to make sure the collar showed, and was starting to see the wisdom of not letting anyone believe they could just 'take' him.

There was a centaur talking with a group of portly gentlemen. He was only the size of a goat, not a big, strapping stallion. He might have been a child but for his curly white hair and beard. When Jack judged they were safely out of earshot, he said quietly, "Why is that centaur so small?"

Cat didn't seem to have any trouble hearing him over the hubbub of the crowd. "They have diminished," was all she said. Jack shrugged. "There are no open plains for the herds to run free, undetected," she elaborated.

So the large mythical beasts had to become smaller, in order to stay hidden. That must explain why Torchwood never got any calls to deal with dragons eating herds of sheep and cattle. It made sense.

"What does this friend of yours look like?" Cat asked him as she continued to lead him through the Hall.

"Skinny, gangly kinda guy; sorta wide-eyed. Shock of brown hair."

Cat frowned. "You know, I'm not really getting a clear picture. Your friend is either Jim Carrey or Freakazoid."

Jack snorted. "He'll be wearing a brown suit with red and white tennis shoes."

"Ah, Jim Carrey, then."

"Can we roam the mezzanine? This place is huge."

"We'll have to wait until after the opening address."


	4. The Masquerade

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: mild D/s

_Author's Notes:_

The 'discourse' is directly from the dream. So is the bizarre amphitheater. It was hard to describe the feel of the place.

* * *

**Part 4: The Masquerade**

===#===

They came to a large T junction in the center of the Great Hall and went into the amphitheater. Grandiose barely scratched the surface of this place. It seemed a mile across, the distant walls curving away into darkness, yet the stage was clearly visible even from the back. Seating was arranged in clusters of sizes and shapes, every seat as luxurious as a private box. Cat paused, looking around, then decided on a direction and began walking. Jack followed, keeping a few steps behind her to the left.

For the first time, he saw other humans. Some stood in attendance like servants awaiting their orders. And many knelt on the floor at their masters' feet. They wore collars - the kinds that covered the throat - and some even leashes of glittering gold or deep black. Jack was garnering a lot of cold stares.

At last they came to a modest section with a few small tables that were mostly empty. Cat sat in one chair and gestured for Jack to a seat across from hers.

At the next table sat three dourly-attired gentlemen. They might have passed for some very ugly humans; they must be goblins. One was short and squat like a toad, one was completely pear-shaped. The other was a sticklike Ichabod Crane. The short one was describing a scenario in which a woman had stowed away on a riverboat that crossed into the Otherland. The other two were arguing if the mortal should be killed out of hand, or if she should be taken into service in reparation of her 'crime.'

"Bargain for passage," Ichabod said, "must be settled before passage occurs. Passage without permission is mere trespass." Clearly he was of the 'trespassers will be shot' mindset.

Pearshaped turned towards Cat and Jack. His large watery eyes appraised the human. Jack nodded back, trying to be polite. The goblin addressed Cat. "We would discourse with your human," he said politely.

She glanced at Jack, then tipped one open hand in an inviting gesture.

"I'd be honored," Jack said. Hah, gentlemanly politeness that!

"Splendid," said Toadstool. "What's your name, young man?"

Like he'd fall for that. Jack Harkness wasn't his real name, but he'd gone by it long enough to grow rather fond of it. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

The trio hissed quietly at one another, but it sounded quite amicable. Perhaps it passed for laughter among them. "My colleague should have said, how are you called?" Ichabod said, folding his hands demurely.

Jack thought a moment. "Captain."

This also seemed to amuse them. Wow, he was great at fae parties. Toadstool said to Cat, "You give him an honored title for a name."

"It's the coat," she said offhandedly. Jack smirked.

Just then, a huge cicada flapped over and landed on him. Jack froze to suppress the urge to swat it. It was one of those damned pixies. He hated those little blighted child-stealers; always drawn so cute and charming and sweet. But if it were dokkalfar, it'd rip his head off. If it were liosalfar, it would probably just encase him in amber or put him to sleep for a hundred years.

This one seemed only intent on admiring one of the brass buttons on his coat. He did his best to ignore it.

Pearshaped picked up their conversation. "What do you think, Captain? Should a mortal stowaway be executed or indentured?"

That was a hell of a question. Of course, 'neither' was not an option. "Well," Jack said carefully, unsure if this question were entirely rhetorical; "mortals have such short lives. It seems rather wasteful to cut them even shorter."

"There, see!" Pearshaped crowed to a frowning Ichabod. "More resourceful to put them to use." He beamed at Jack, the effect marred somewhat by a small pair of tusks that were revealed. "Well spoken!"

Another short goblin in an impeccable Armani suit scurried over. He also appeared quite human except for the prodigious length of his sickle-shaped nose and long, talon-tipped fingers. He wrung his hands and looked up imploringly at Cat. "Please, Mistress..."

She gave him a scathing glare. "That is not my title."

"A thousand pardons, Lady!" Cat tapped her fingertips slowly on the tabletop, her fingernails lengthened into cat-claws. They clicked quietly on the wood. The goblin gulped. "Y-your Worship," he tried again, his adam's apple bobbing. "Please... we try to run a respectable establishment here. I- I- I... There have been complaints." He cringed as if expecting Cat to smite him.

She looked as if contemplating it, then sighed. "Very well."

"Damned arrogant liosalfar," Toadstool griped.

Ichabod blanched. "P-present company excluded, Lord Malchior."

The pixie rose off Jack's coat in a whirr of wings. His voice was not a squeaky high pitch, but it was still 'small,' almost like a loud whisper. "Shall I tell the company of liosalfar you meant, then?"

"You can tell them we were having a perfectly enjoyable discourse with the mortal," Pearshaped grumbled. The pixie flew off in a huff.

Just what he needed, an inter-faction fae war. "Did I do something wrong?" Jack asked worriedly.

"No," Cat assured him. "It's all right." But she motioned for him to get up and come to her. Still bewildered, Jack did so. "I'm sorry," she told him, "but you'll have to sit here on the floor beside me."

Jack looked around. Of course none of the other mortals had a chair. He grimaced. "Like taking your dog to the restaurant, is it?" She really did look apologetic. Well, fine. She didn't say he had to kneel, so he settled comfortably on one hip, leaning casually against her chair.

Cat touched him gently on the head, ran her fingers lightly over his hair and down his neck. _What the-?_ Jack looked around, but she jerked her hand back as if she hadn't meant to do that. She folded her arms on the table and scowled at the inoffensive woodgrain of the tabletop.

What had that been about? A reflex to pet a good dog? But Jack didn't feel angry about it. It had been... nice. Cat, nice? Very scary!


	5. The Queen of the Fae

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: mild D/s

Author's Notes:

Jack's natural charm gets him in trouble. Possibly even out of it.

* * *

**Part 5: The Queen of the Fae**

===#===

The goblins apparently didn't feel like talking down to an animal. They argued quietly amongst themselves. Cat wasn't chatty, and Jack wondered how long he'd have to sit here on the floor.

It wasn't long. A ripple passed through the amphitheatre, coming straight for them. Jack craned his neck, but couldn't see a blasted thing from down here. There was a golden glow associated with the phenomenon; it grew stronger. Jack caught a glimpse of a tall woman of exquisite beauty, dripping with gold, as she entered their section.

The goblins and Cat got to their feet. Cat gripped his shoulder. Was he meant to-? Oh yes. The goblins and Cat dropped to one knee. Jack scrambled to shift from a sitting position to kneeling, his head bowed. It must be Titania, the queen of all the fae. And the biggest fickle bitch in the universe that you did _not_ want pissed at you.

"Rise." Her voice was like sweet music. Jack stayed where he was, because he knew she wasn't speaking to him. He tried his best to remain unnoticeable. "It is good you have come," Titania said to Cat. "Your insight will be most valuable."

"I am honored to help, Your Majesty."

"And what is this?" Oh shit. So much for going unnoticed.

"Your Highness, may I present the Captain."

Jack could almost feel the powerful fae's gaze on him, though he didn't look up. "Rise, Captain. Let us have a look at you." Oh shit. He moved quickly to obey, suddenly realizing why the fae were so interested in him. As sensitive as they were, they could probably detect even low levels of the sexual attractant pheromones on him. Brilliant, what a time to be irresistible! He kept his eyes lowered.

Titania drew her fingers along his jaw, tipped his chin up so he had to look at her face. She was taller than he was... which was odd; she hadn't seemed quite so big from down on the floor. It must be a glamour. _Her whole look is a glamour, so don't start thinking about how gorgeous she is!_ He turned his eyes aside.

"Do you fear to look upon me?"

"As any mortal fears looking at the sun too long and becoming blinded." That was good, he should write it down.

Titania smiled, and her glow intensified a bit. "You are indeed well-spoken. Come with me. You will amuse me while we await Lord Oberon."

Oh shit! Titania turned and walked away, fully expecting to be obeyed. Jack shot a desperate look at Cat. She looked worried, but just shrugged with a twitch of her brows. What could she do? Nobody said 'no' to Titania. Jack hurried after the fae queen.

Though it seemed a mile to the dais, the walk was quite brief. Titania didn't hurry, but strolled, basking in the obesiance given by every creature they passed, both hideous and beautiful.

She seated herself upon a silver crystal throne on the dais. "Sit beside me." Jack carefully knelt next to the throne. All right, he'd said he knew how to handle fae. All he had to do was amuse Titania, but not so much that she fancied keeping him, and at the same time not piss her off. Oh, and don't have sex with her. She was married to the biggest murderously-jealous husband in the universe. Right. Easy.

He wished Cat had at least come along - she was sworn to keep him from harm, though there was nothing practical she could do against Titania. And if he got ensnared in the fae queen's web? Cat hadn't been able to promise to return him to Earth within two days. He'd better make this good.

"What is it you do for Cat?"

"Anything she asks me to, Your Majesty."

Titania looked puzzled. "Such as?"

"Well," Jack thought a moment. "Opening doors. Being generally amusing. Standing around and looking good?" What did she expect Cat asked him to do? The usual? Kneel down, take off your clothes, lie on this bed of nails? He didn't want to give Titania any ideas.

The fae queen still seemed genuinely puzzled. "She finds you aesthetically pleasing?"

"Um... I have to say, Your Highness, I don't actually know." And Sebastian had said, 'what a waste.' Was Cat a lesbian? One who seriously hated men? But that shouldn't matter, his pheromones ought to make her like him, even non-sexually.

Then Titania asked, "What would you do if I asked you to come to me in my bower?"

Oh shit, there it was. "Well," Jack hedged, licking his lips to get a moment to think. "I would be ecstatically grateful for the opportunity to please you, Your Majesty. And I would know a pleasure greater than a thousand heavens." The fae queen smiled slowly. "Immediately followed by dying a thousand horribly painful deaths at the hand of King Oberon."

And Titania laughed. Out loud - not the near-silent breath of the usual fae laugh. Her voice pealed like bells over the auditorium, and the hushed conversations turned to silence.

Jack hoped this was a good thing.

"You have pleased me greatly, Captain." A crystal goblet of water appeared in her left hand. "Will you accept this gift from my hand?"

Suddenly, Jack felt completely parched. Oh no, this was not good. "You are most gracious, Your Majesty, but I couldn't."

"You wouldn't take this humble gift from your host?"

Now it felt as if he'd swallowed a handful of fire ants, and they were biting at his throat and the back of his tongue. "It is forbidden," he managed to gasp out. Never before had a bit of colourless liquid looked so good. The crystal of the goblet looked like cool ice. As he watched, mesmerized, tiny jewel-like droplets of condensation appeared on the surface and sparkled tantalizingly.

"You would scorn a gift from the Queen of the Fae? That would be most insulting," she threatened.

Jack's mouth went dry. Dry as desert sand. He was screwed. He could take the 'gift' and be beholden to Titania, or he could insult her and be punished. Where the hell was Cat to protect him from this kind of trap? Now there was an idea! Blame her! "My Master forbids it," he rasped.

"I see," Titania said coldly. She tipped the goblet slowly, and the precious water spilled out. It turned into a trickle of white sand. "You should return to your Master now."

Jack forced his throat to swallow. "As you wish. Thank you, Your Majesty." He got to his feet, and bowed for good measure, then tried not to look as if he were fleeing.

The way back seemed three times as far. He was... pretty sure he was going in the right direction. He wasn't about to stop and ask. He was alone, adrift in a sea of monsters. If he showed any weakness or hesitation, they'd close in.

He kept walking.


	6. True Mastery

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

Out of the frying pan, into the fire. The author's proclivity towards Star Wars quotes rears its ugly head.

Astaroth's accoutrements inspired by Vakidzashi's painting of Elktel on deviantArt. (Apologies to the artist for Jack's interpretation of the fingerblade. :X ) (vakidzashi deviantart com / gallery / 30166078# / d4287tt)

* * *

**Part 6: True Mastery**

===#===

He ended up in a coven of dokkalfar. Their slaves were bound with chain and leather, harness and bridle. Something caught at Jack's ankle. Reflexively, he yanked his leg away and looked down. There was a woman, her dark eyes pleading up at him. She couldn't speak for the leather and brass gag. The dokkalfar holding her leash gave it a vicious yank, jerking her back. Jack stumbled back and brushed what appeared to be a hairy wall. Then the wall started revolving. After turning for several seconds, a huge maw the size of a window appeared.

"GRAH!" it said, sounding rather peeved.

"Pardon me," Jack said levelly. It started haranguing him with a series of grunts and growls. "I... don't understand-"

"He doesn't like you," one of the dokkalfar supplied. He was tall and dusky-skinned, with deep garnet eyes and long jet hair. He was dressed in embossed leather, black on black, studded with rubies.

"Sorry." Jack tried to edge around the walking carpet.

"I don't like you either." The dokkalfar moved to cut off Jack's escape. Rings of silver, ruby, and moonstone glittered on his fingers, and some sort of decorative armor encased the middle finger of his right hand. It ended in a long, wicked point, and Jack wondered how he didn't perforate himself if he had to scratch his butt. But fae probably never suffered from something so crassly mortal as itchy buttcracks.

Biting back a flippant remark, Jack said, "I was only passing through. Then I'll be gone, and you can stop being bothered." He made as if to pass between the two creatures, but they didn't move to let him.

The dokkalfar stepped in front of him, two fingers extended so the point of the silver fingerblade poked Jack in the center of his chest. It was so sharp, it passed easily through cloth and pricked his skin. "What are you doing here, mortal? I don't believe you've been properly trained to show humility when addressing your betters."

_I don't believe you know how much I want to put my fist through your delicately-bone-structured face_, Jack thought. He kept his expression neutral and his eyes down. He could feel more of the dark creatures gathering at his back, like a street gang in an alley, itching for a rumble. If he started backing down now, they'd be all over him. Now would be a really good time for the Doctor to fortuitously appear. Or where the hell was Cat? Wasn't she supposed to be defending him? He was sure (fairly sure) that he could take out one or two of these fae, and of course they couldn't kill him permanently. But ending up a corpse here would be bad. Even worse would be reviving here.

The dark fae crowded Jack, pressing against his sternum with that damned pointy thing. Jack backed up a step. The dokkalfar seemed bigger now, probably puffing up his glamour to intimidate the tall human. "I asked you a question, mortal. Have you been struck dumb?"

"GRAH!" added the giant hairy maw.

"I think you're right; he _hasn't_ been properly broken. Let's remedy that, shall we?"

"Astaroth!" Cat's voice cut like an icy katana through the crowd. Jack had never been so happy to hear her scrotum-shriveling tone. "What do you think you're doing with my property?"

The dokkalfar swiftly removed his hand from Jack. The walking carpet turned ponderously and growled at Cat. She cut it a scathing look, then just glowered as it whimpered and shuffled backwards. Jack wondered exactly who and what Cat was. She seemed to be one big, bad bitch.

"Does this... _thing_ belong to you?" Astaroth asked her. This could get messy. If it were true about fae being unable to lie, Cat's charade with Jack might be revealed.

"Did you fail to see my collar on him?" She folded her arms, and her eyes flashed with that golden gleam. "Or are you challenging my claim?" She stepped up to him; he didn't seem so tall now. "If you've drawn blood," she threatened, "there will be redress."

The dokkalfar grimaced and, reluctantly, handed Cat his butt-scratcher. She put it into some fae pocket or other, because Jack didn't see exactly where it vanished to. She turned towards him, but froze when Astaroth spoke.

"You know, it's been a very long time, Cat." He bit off her name forcefully. "Some may be starting to think your reputation has been... shall we say, exaggerated over the years."

"Oh, really?" A big grin spread over Cat's face as she turned. It was gleefully bloodthirsty, and on the far side of sane. "I think you may be right! It's high time we put it to the test." The air thrummed with gathering power. The dokkalfar edged away from the two, and even Jack backed up a step. "Are you feeling lucky, Astaroth?"

"Temper, temper," he replied, hooding his eyes and affecting a stance of cool nonchalance. "I'm sure that's not necessary. I trust you _can_ prove to our satisfaction that you are in control of this animal. Despite his lack of shackles and bindings, a leash, or even a compulsion?" His red eyes glittered dangerously, and his voice dripped with thick sarcasm. "I'd really like to see how you accomplish your so-called mastery. I'm sure we all would."

Jack glanced around, the corridor was thick with dokkalfar and monsters. This was it, then. The part where Cat had to prove he was hers by putting him through his paces: down on your knees, crawl on your belly, lick my boots... And he had to go along with it, while the audience took sadistic delight in his humiliation. His stomach knotted.

Cat slowly crossed her arms. "Someday, Astaroth, when you grow up you'll realize -" she turned one hand up folded her fingers over to beckon Jack. He immediately took his place at her side. "- that a need to prove anything only demonstrates your insecurity, and reliance on tools and devices is only a crutch for those too weak to attain true mastery." She glanced briefly over her shoulder, then turned and strode off.

Jack clasped his hands behind his back and followed, giving the fuming dokkalfar a slight smile. He was _not_ smirking. He was making a deliberate and concentrated effort not to smirk.

The crowd parted before them. It was good to be the Big Dog! They stared in appreciation and open awe of Cat's mastery. The best part was, it was all fake! Jack hadn't been broken or conditioned or trained. He obeyed Cat of his own free will, which... all right, was kind of her point. But it was only going along with a charade. It wasn't actually real obedience. He was sure there was a difference in there, somewhere.

===#===

* * *

**End Notes:**

_And he had to go along with it, while the audience took sadistic delight in his humiliation._

- Oh, he wasn't talking about YOU guys. He meant the dokkalfar present. :X


	7. Gift of the Fae

Content:

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: no

Nudity: some (m, f)

Sex: Jack gets mentally molested

Other: no

Author's Notes:

I'm rather fond of hand-feeding, but I have to confess, I've never tried hand-watering anyone.

* * *

**Part 7: The Gift of the Fae**

===#===

By the time they got back to their seats (well, on chair and the floor), Jack's throat was itching again. "I need something to drink," he told Cat quietly.

"It's just a glamour. Try to ignore it."

Damned vindictive faerie queens. "Can't you get me something?"

"After the reception. You're not going to die of thirst, just be patient."

Jack concentrated on trying to work up spit in his mouth to assuage the terrible dryness. The royal address seemed to go on an interminably long time.

Finally, it ended and Cat wasted no time taking him out another door in the atrium that led to an open-air plaza. A fountain burbled in the center, sharpening his thirst. He sat on the rim and began to reach for the water. "Don't," Cat warned him sharply. He jerked his hands back impatiently.

Cat settled on the rim next to him. She scooped both hands into the water and held them out to him.

"Can't you conjure up a cup or something?"

"It has to be from my hand. I thought you were thirsty," she griped.

Fine. At least it wasn't a dog bowl. As he bent to drink, he heard her whisper the words: "I give this freely." The water was deliciously cool and soothed his throat.

She dipped another double handful with the same ritual words. Jack drank deeply. There was something kinky about the whole thing, and intimacy of sharing. He felt the first pricklings of arousal and shifted his weight slightly, hoping she didn't notice.

Cat drew another handful of water from the fountain, but before she offered it to him, she frowned. She let the water fall and shook droplets from her hands. She stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably again. Instead of withering under her glare, heat swelled in his loins and spread out over his body.

"I need you to hold perfectly still," she said in a low, hard voice. Jack tensed. "You're about to be attacked." She looked around the plaza.

"You're supposed to protect me," he reminded her.

"It's not that kind of attack. They're trying to get me to repudiate you." She fixed him with her gaze again. "Do as I tell you. Do _not_ move. Keep your hands on the fountain."

Jack gripped the stone rim firmly. Another wave of heat rolled over him, and his mind went somewhere else, a red, red room. He was naked, bathed in sweat. And _she_ was there, the blonde succubus, her skin glistening in the red light. Oh, she was hot. Her skin slid against his; her heat inflamed him.

Then another was there, an incubus with the face of an angel and the tongue of Satan. Oh, _he_ was hot. And he'd brought friends!

"Can you tell which one it is?" Cat's voice drifted through the red room.

"Mmmhn," Jack said, his eyes closed in pleasure. "All of them."

She might have muttered something about him being useless, but he couldn't really hear over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He felt a slight coolness as Cat's presence departed, but this barely registered to his senses drowning in ecstasy.

The succubi and incubi kept touching him, stroking him, bringing him to greater arousal. But not _there_. They wouldn't give him the touch he craved. Mercilessly, they teased him. Then it started to hurt, and they just wouldn't stop. He tried to wriggle, to press against them, but they were too quick, too agile.

_Do not move,_ he remembered Cat's command. He clenched his jaw and bowed his head. The pain of his need was near unbearable. He felt his hands upon the cool stone. _Keep your hands on the fountain_. He gripped so hard, he feared his finger bones would snap against the unyielding stone. He quivered in exquisite pain, and if it didn't let up soon, he was going to start humping this damned fountain just to be free of it.

Suddenly, the sensation ceased. Jack felt a momentary rush of vertigo, and his body jerked as he tried to catch himself. He opened his eyes, again fully aware of his surroundings, the sound of the fountain, the feel of the stone.

Cat's presence returned, her shadow falling over him. "Are you all right?"

"No," he managed through gritted teeth. His balls hurt like hell.

Quickly, she drew another double-handful of water. "Here, this will help."

He gulped it down, and the cool water immediately soothed the residual heat from his body. Then he choked. She hadn't said the words. He looked up at her. "What did you do to me?"

She shrugged one shoulder and said flippantly, "Oh well, now you're beholden to me."

===#===


	8. The Blue Box

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: some

Violence: a little jiu-jitsu

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

Ever try to really analyze what characters say? Sometimes they don't make sense! Or the things they do...

Includes men and their utter inability to just CALL! Sheesh.

* * *

**Part 8: The Blue Box**

===#===

Jack cursed his inattention, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. Cat didn't demand anything from him. -Yet. He'd just have to wait for the other shoe to drop. When he could walk steadily again, they strolled through the bazaar. Jack told her to also look for a blue box. If the Doctor's TARDIS were here, that might be easier to spot. Though only if you were looking for it.

"Why is everyone afraid of you?" Jack asked conversationally.

"Why are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not!" he scoffed. She just gave him a look. "All right. Well, I suppose some people might be intimidated by the fact that you're very fast, very lethal, and have absolutely no regard for human life."

"There you go, then."

Right. This time, Jack rolled his eyes. "So you're not really a big enigmatic mystery. Just exactly what you appear to be," he said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not an _alien_," she shot back. Touche'.

Jack dropped the argument, not because he was losing, mind you, but because he'd spotted the TARDIS behind one of the booths. He pointed it out, and the two of them headed in that direction.

"You call that a blue box?" Cat griped.

"What? It's a big, blue box. What would you call it?"

"It's a large wooden telephone booth. Not a box. A box is..." She mimed a little four-square package. "Smaller than a crate."

"It _is_ a box. Look, it says 'Police Call Box' right on it."

"You never said it was huge."

"It's not my fault you were looking for a little package," Jack said. Even though... it _was_. She just glared at him, which he pretended to ignore.

He tried the door. It was locked, of course. He pulled out his cell phone and started looking up Martha's number.

"There's no signal here," Cat scoffed.

"Hah, shows you what you know. The TARDIS is its own tower." He hit dial and held the phone to his ear. In another minute, he cursed. "It's gone to voicemail. He never carries it with him!"

Cat shrugged and rapped her knuckles on the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Knocking. Ever heard of that?"

"You don't just knock at the TARDIS door!"

"Why not?"

"Just... because! It's the TARDIS. Not a flat or, or some house in the suburbs!" Knocking on the TARDIS door! What a ludicrous idea. "We'll just have to wait here until he gets b-"

Then the door opened and the Doctor popped his head out. "Hello?" His eyes widened and a big grin lit up his face. "Jack! What a pleasant surprise!"

"May we come in?" Cat interrupted.

"Of course!" The Doctor flung the door wide and stepped aside. Cat ducked in quickly, followed by the two men. "Who's your friend?" the Doctor asked Jack.

"She's not my friend," the captain growled.

Instantly, the Doctor's demeanor changed. His brows lowered in a threatening line. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his inner coat pocket and aimed it at Cat. "Release him," the Doctor commanded. "Now!"

"Oh," said Jack quickly; "You don't want to d-"

Not quickly enough. Cat turned, and in an eyeblink, the sonic screwdriver was in pieces and the Doctor was pinned to the floor in an arm-bar.

"-o that," Jack finished lamely. He winced in sympathy. "Let him up." Cat untwisted the Doctor's arm and let him have it back.

"You broke my sonic screwdriver!" he wailed.

"You threatened me with a screwdriver?"

"My _sonic_ screwdriver! You broke it!"

"Why were you pointing a screwdriver at me?" Cat asked, clearly baffled.

Jack thought of a witty answer to that one, but then he decided he liked his gonads where they were, and wisely kept silent.

"You _broke_ my sonic _screwdriver!_" the Doctor fumed, his voice spiraling upwards.

"I didn't break it."

He scrabbled around on the floor. "It's in three -" _clatter_ "- no, four pieces!"

"I only rapidly and forcefully disassembled it," Cat insisted dryly.

"Nevertheless -" the Doctor straightened, tucking the disassembled screwdriver into his coat pocket - "you _will_ release my friend."

"Wait," said Jack. "You mean this?" He hooked a finger under the chain and lifted it slightly. "This is fake."

The Doctor turned and eyed the collar. "Fake?"

"Yes, fake."

"You're sure?"

"Uhhm..."

The Doctor threw his hands into the air. "So you're not sure? Jack, do you have any idea how dangerous-?"

"Yes, yes, I know!" Didn't anyone give him credit for some intelligence? Let's not mention the beholden part...

The Doctor turned to Cat. "Give him a command."

Cat was standing near the console, one leg bent, hands on her hips, watching them. She gave a half-shrug of annoyance, then gestured towards the Doctor. "Kick his butt."

Jack just looked at the Doctor. "Uh... no?" He shrugged.

"Oh," the Doctor said. Then, as if nothing untoward had happened, he smiled broadly and extended a hand. "I'm the Doctor." Cat just stared.

"That's Cat," Jack supplied. "Actually... that's all I can get out of her."

Undaunted, the Doctor resumed ushering his guests up the ramp. "Welcome aboard! What do you think? Bigger on the inside, eh? I bet you noticed that."

She shrugged. "Seems a bit small, really."

"Small?!"

Jack said, "She _is_ fae."

"Is she?"

Jack gave the Doctor a baffled look. What else would she-? Why would he be upset about the collar-? He turned his look on Cat. "Are you fae?" he asked directly.

"Well I'm not an alien," she scoffed.

Which was no answer at all. "If you're not fae, you could be lying." About that, and about the beholden thing, which would be good. Completely negated by the possibility that those promised she made were non-binding. "Tell me if you're fae or not."

She just folded her arms and gave him a flat look. This was going nowhere. He looked at the Doctor.

"Well, we could scan her," the Time Lord said, reaching into his coat. "But, oh that's right! Someone bro- uh..." He scooted back a bit behind Jack at her glare. "Forcibly disassembled my sonic screwdriver!"

"Bad luck," Cat drawled.

"You _are_ an alien!" Jack said. "I knew it!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. "Is it time for your medication again?"

Undaunted, Jack laid out his new theory. "They know you... but you could be fooling them, somehow. If you were actually fae, you'd be twice as attracted to me as a human."

"What!?" she yelped in disbelief. "Okay, that is the biggest ego I have ever seen!"

The Doctor looked as if he agreed, though he knew Jack better. "How many have you been saying 'hi' to?"

"None! Look, they're very sensitive to my pheromones, and they're all attracted to me." He folded his arms and challenged Cat. "If you're not an alien, then explain how you're not affected."

"I'm asexual," she growled.

Jack blinked. The Doctor crept forward again in wide-eyed curiosity. "Really?"

"Yah," she said belligerently.

"Wow! That is so rare!" He gawped at her in fascination as if she were some exotic species.

The pieces all fell into place. "Now I get it!" Jack said. "There's nothing wrong with me!" He ignored her snort. "No, listen. I have sexual attractor pheromones. Clearly, they have the opposite affect on asexuals."

She stared at him. Then slowly she said, "So... you're not an arrogant prick, you just smell like one?"

"Ye- No!" He looked at the Doctor, who suddenly seemed to have something stuck in his throat. "No, look," he explained to Cat. "You don't hate me. You just have an averse chemical reaction to my presence."

"Oh, is that all?"

"Come on, I'm serious. Try to be objective here. You don't have any reason to hate me."

"You mean besides all that trying to kidnap me, and drug me..."

"No." He held up a finger to forestall all that. "The first time we met. All I did was walk in the door and try to be nice, and it was instant hostility. How do you explain that?"

She frowned. "Premonition?"

The Doctor interjected, "You tried to say 'hi' to her?"

"Uh, yeah," he confessed. Jack looked askance at the Time Lord.

The Doctor cleared his throat one last time and rubbed his mouth to straighten it. "Well, it is actually a solid theory. Quite possible." He nodded at Cat.

"Fine," she acceded. "Put a lid on your attractor pheromones, and I'll keep a leash on my castrator pheromones."

"You don't have castrator pheromones," Jack scoffed. She glared razors at him, and he moved defensively behind the console. "Okay, maybe you do. Look, I can't consciously control my pheromones, but I promise you, I don't mean anything towards you. I fully respect everyone's sexuality." He gave her a sincere look.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but... was perhaps mollified somewhat.

And she still hadn't answered his question. Jack gave it up as a lost cause at this point, but he was still taking notes. There had to be some clue as to what species she was.

"Well," the Doctor said, clasping his hands together with a genial smile. "Make yourself at home. And it's not small! There's a lounge, a bar - there's a whole swimming pool! Have a look around if you like."

"Doctor," Jack said; "why are you here? Is there a problem? You know I can help."

"Ummm... no. No problem." The Doctor shrugged. "Just, you know, sightseeing." He rolled his wide eyes meaningfully back and forth.

"Come on, seriously!" Jack briskly rubbed his hands together. "Are we gonna bust in and free the human slaves?"

The Doctor's eyes went wider and he just goggled at Jack.

"What?" The captain looked over towards Cat. "Oh, she already said she wouldn't interfere if that's what it was."

The Doctor turned his googly stare on her. She just shrugged. Turning back with a grimace, he explained, "We can't just go in and start taking people away. You know that isn't the way to stop slavery in a society. More likely to start a war," he added grimly.

"But-"

"Most of them have been with the fae since they were children. They don't want to leave."

"Well, the liosalfar, sure. But the dokkalfar? They're a bunch of mad-whacked, psychotic sadists!" Jack noticed Cat cocking an eyebrow at him. "No offense."

"The dokkalfar take people in the Wild Hunt," the Doctor said. "There's an ancient covenant with the humans that grants them that right."

"So ancient that no human remembers it."

The Time Lord grimaced. He couldn't argue with that. "Do you know what sort of people they take?"

Jack racked his brain for fairytale folklore. "Tax collectors?"

"The fae have a deep and abiding respect for innocence above all else. Even the dokkalfar would never harm a child." The Doctor put his hands in his pockets and leaned back on the rail. He looked at Jack from under his mop of hair. "They take child molesters. I'm really not comfortable releasing that sort of person back into your society."

Jack drew his lower lip through his teeth. He nodded, conceding the Doctor's point. "So... you're just visiting? Sightseeing? Really?"

"Yep!" The Doctor rocked back on his heels, smiling broadly. "You know me! Always up for a bit of relaxation."

"You're here, just relaxing, having a bit of a good time, and you didn't call me?"

"Uhh..." The Time Lord scratched the back of his head, avoiding Jack's gaze. "Well... you're always so busy."

"Busy? I'm not always busy." Jack flung out his hands. "You never write, you never call. The only time I ever hear from you, it's 'Help, save the world, the universe is about to be annihilated, again!' I feel so used!"

The Doctor ducked his head, looking sheepish. "It's um... I lost the phone."

Nonplussed, Jack whipped out his mobile and hit the redial. It took him all of seven seconds to follow the sound of ringing to a box in a cabinet, full of old shoes and some spare parts. He brought it back and handed it to the Doctor.

He didn't take it. "Um, you know, that's... I don't know how to work such primitive technology."

Jack stared. "Doctor, you can fly a TARDIS all by yourself! A child could figure this out!"

"Ahhh, well...," he hedged, pacing away a bit, fiddling with the dials on the console. "It's the numbers, you see. Remembering pi to a thousand places doesn't leave a lot of room." He tapped his noggin.

"That's why we have speed-dial." Jack flipped the phone open. "Star-three," he explained slowly, remedially. "That's my number. Star-three. You press the star -" he proceeded to demonstrate with exaggerated movement - "and the three. And then you press this big button here that helpfully says 'Dial.' Hello?" he pretended to say into the phone. "Jack? Hey, listen, I was in town for a bit, how about we got out for a drink? Catch up, swap stories?" He tossed the phone on the console. "It's really not that difficult!"

"Well, I suppose." The Doctor leaned against the rail, looking genuinely sheepish. He glanced up from under a shock of hair falling forward over his eyes.

Jack followed his gaze. Cat had gotten bored and wandered off somewhere. "So, what are you really here for?"

The Doctor sprang from his perch and went to Jack, putting a hand conspirationally on his shoulder. "It's the Autumnal Equinox of the twelfth year of the twelfth millennium," he confided."

"It's only the second millennium," Jack said, confused. Did the Time Lord get his dates mixed up again?

The Doctor waved that off. "Not the human calendar." He glanced around and lowered his voice again. "It's a war council. Big one. Biggest one since three thousand years ago, when the fae voted not to go to war against the humans. Today, that vote gets revisited. As desperate as thing are for the fae, this is their last chance to declare a direct war on the human species. To try to annihilate them from this planet."

"And all-out war with the fae?" Jack felt a chill. As unprepared as modern 'enlightened' humans were, the death toll would be staggering. "Could they possibly win?"

The Doctor shook his head slowly. "It wouldn't take the people long to figure out the strength of the fae is based on the untouched places of nature. They'd bomb the hell out of the last wild places, and that would be it."

"But the human race can't survive without the natural world. Not at this level of technology they have now."

Silently, the Doctor nodded.

"The end of the world," Jack mused, though he knew it wouldn't happen. Well, not if the Time Lord kept things on track. "12-21-12? But I thought that referred to the Mayan calendar. That ends on December 21, 2012."

"Pfft," the Doctor scoffed. "It's a calendar, it's cyclical. You get to the end, you just go back to the beginning."

"I know, right? Twenty-first century, you'd think people could figure that out by now." Truly, the humans of 2000 were nowhere near as advanced as those of 5000.

The Doctor shook his head. "The fae vote not to go to war, of course. Instead, they withdraw. The Gateways to the Otherland are closed." He looked sad. "They don't survive."

"Remove magic from the world?" Jack was surprised.

The Doctor gave him a chiding look. "Really, Jack; you're supposed to be from the 51st century."

"Well, yeah. But it sounds so poetically bad." He shrugged. Humans still had their ancient stories and tales of magic, even so far in the future.

"What? No more demons and witches? People having to take responsibility for their own evils?"

The Doctor had him there. He could have done without having to deal with Abaddon. "That's true. But is there someone here, trying to influence the vote? Someone we have to stop?" And running around. There was always a lot of running around with this Time Lord and his 'visits.'

"No." The Doctor grew quite serious. "Despite the cultural arrogance of the fae... it's just a truly noble thing for a race to do. Choosing to die, rather than risking the death of planet Earth. You don't see that every eon. Just..." He shrugged. "I thought someone ought to remember it."

"Hey!" The two men jumped guiltily. Cat had reappeared behind them. She glared, arms folded. "Let's go."

"Actually," said Jack, "since we found my friend here, I shouldn't need your help any more. I do thank you," he added hastily. "But you can go. If you want to."

Slowly, she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, this was bad. "No," she said coldly. "I can't."

"Because...?"

"I promised to get you safely back to the hotel, in case you forgot."

He winced. "Well, can't I just absolve you of this promise or something?"

She just glared. Jack palmed his face. Stubborn fae.

"Come on, Jack, be nice," the Doctor said. "We're ready to go."

===#===

* * *

End Notes:

_The Doctor: "Remembering pi to a thousand places doesn't leave a lot of room."_

-It was a toss-up between this and remembering pi to the last digit... but I decided to do homage to Weird Al Yankovic's "White and Nerdy."


	9. I Shall Diminish and Go into the West

Content:

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama

Language: none

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

Author's Notes:

Not so much humor in this one, really. The most depressing chapter.

* * *

**Part 9: I Will Diminish and Go into the West**

===#===

The three of them returned to the amphitheater. This time they found a niche in the far back. Jack sat with the Doctor, in a proper chair. Cat sat sullenly, leaning on a small table, arms crossed.

Down on the central dais stood a huge oak tree, spreading out hundreds of branches, bearing thousands of golden leaves that glowed with reflected light. Titania and Oberon introduced the purpose of the Autumn Court, the all-important vote: war or withdrawal. Any fae denizen or magical creature could speak on the issue. Despite the distance, each one could be seen and heard clearly. Perceptually, it was a bit disorienting, until Jack thought of it like a television screen.

The Doctor listened, rapt, to each speaker, drinking it all in. Jack grew rather bored with all the politicking. It was like an environmentalist consortium. Cat only grew more agitated.

Finally, she'd had enough. She stood up. "Let's go."

"Don't you want to stay for the vote?" the Doctor asked.

"What's the point?" she snarled. She slapped something down on the table and turned away. "Your weekend's almost over," she told Jack. "We're leaving. Now." She didn't wait.

Jack shrugged apologetically. "I have to go."

"Do you think she overheard us talking?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what I think." Jack stood up and paused a moment to straighten his coat. "Look, call me when you're done here."

"All right," the Doctor said absently.

"Promise me," Jack insisted, flipping the collar of his coat up to delay another half a second.

"All right, all right - I promise!"

Jack nodded and walked off. But after a few steps, he turned back. "You made a promise in the Otherland. That makes it binding," he warned.

The Time Lord smiled and waved him off.

Jack shot him one last departing look, then went to catch up to his escort.

===#===

Cat wasn't lying when she said the weekend was almost over. When they got outside, it was a cool pre-dawn grey, Monday already. The Galway Hotel was eerily silent, the world still slumbering.

Cat - the normal jeans and sweatshirt Cat - wasted no time retrieving her bag from under the desk in the hotel room. Jack followed quietly. She fished the safe key out of her pocket and threw it at him. Then she shouldered her bag and brushed past him as he caught it.

"Hey! Aren't you going to take this thing off my neck?"

"No."

"But -"

She whirled on him. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's not magicked. You can get it off yourself." She turned back and strode to the door.

"You were going to vote for the war, weren't you?" he called after her. There was no more use pretending he didn't know what was going on here. Or that she didn't know what the outcome would be. "That'd be just like you, wouldn't it?" he insisted as she stopped, hand on the doorknob. "A fighter. A sadist - with no regard for human life." Suddenly, he wished he'd gotten his gun, first. A homicidal fae would be a very, very bad thing.

Cat released the knob. "Don't be stupid," she said, half-turning. "I saw 'The Matrix.'" He wasn't sure of the exact reference; he could only look puzzled. "'We do know it was us that scorched the sky,'" she quoted Morpheus. "'At the time, they were dependent on solar power. It was believed they would be unable to survive without an energy source as abundant as the sun.'"

Now Jack recalled the scene: Morpheus and Neo sitting in the grey rubble and dust of a city, the sky dark with roiling clouds. Of course, without the sun, plants couldn't survive, and without plants, animals couldn't survive. Humans were resourceful, though - huddled around the Earth's core for heat, eating fungus and mold, and probably Soylent Green. Humans hadn't won that fictitious war, but it was well within the realm of belief that they would try something that drastic to do so.

"I, too, will diminish and go into the West," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," said Jack. It was stupid, but what could one say to someone whose entire race had just committed self-genocide?

She didn't reply. She just left.

===#===

The Doctor watched in awe the fae voting process. The leaves on the magical oak tree represented the individuals in the vote. As the 'polls' were opened, several boughs caught fire as the leaves turned into living flame. These were the votes for war. Slowly, other branches darkened, the golden leaves fading to black. Dying. The other votes. He leaned on the table and startled slightly as his elbow bumped something.

It was one of the leaves. Jack's friend (or... not-so-friend, they'd never really cleared that up) had left it there on the table. It corresponded with a leaf on the tree. It was the power of one vote.

The Doctor picked it up gently by the stem. It was wrought of gold, and perfect in every detail. More than perfect. No human artistry or process could have created such a thing. Every vein tapered precisely, spawned a fractal array of tiny branching lines. The leaf wasn't just pure yellow gold. It blended smoothly with red gold at its heart, a smooth gradient, just like a real autumn leaf.

It was an impossibility. An illusion. It could not exist outside the Otherland, save perhaps in an artist's imagination, or a storyteller's. The Doctor looked around, at all the impossibly beautiful architecture, the clothing, the creatures.

He slowly turned the leaf between his finger and thumb. The gold faded to dead brown, and then it began to blacken. That fae woman, Cat, had already decided upon her vote.

The Doctor looked up at the tree. It too, was dying, turning black. The golden beauty was gone.

Then he realized... The fae were about to make a terrible mistake.

===#===

* * *

_End Notes:_

"I shall diminish and go into the west..."

-Galadriel, from _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring_, by JRR Tolkien

.

"But we do know it was us that scorched the sky..."

-Morpheus, from _The Matrix_, by Warner Bros. Pictures


	10. One Voice

Torchwood/Dr Who: The Collar

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama

Language: none

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

In which the Doctor meddles. You didn't think he'd get away without doing so, did you? And he says bad things about humans. :X

* * *

**Part 10: One Voice**

===#===

"Stop!" The Doctor pelted down the aisle of the fae amphitheater. "Stop the vote!" Alfar and ogres, goblins and pixies shied out of his way. An uproar followed in his wake.

He gained the central dais and stopped dead, panting. The angry gazes of Titania and Oberon were like ice-covered steel. Hurriedly, he made a deep bow. "Your Majesties. I beg leave to speak." He held up the magical leaf to forestall any protest. His possession of it proved he had been granted a vote. "All immortals here are allowed a voice."

"You are an immortal?" Oberon asked with a frown.

"Yes." The Doctor gulped another breath. "You can see I'm not human." His hearts galloped. "I am over nine hundred years old. I am as immortal as any of you."

"You are of this world?" Titania asked shrewdly. "Only we do not recognize you."

"I am the Doctor," he said. "I was here when Pompeii was destroyed. I was here when the Roman empire fell, and I was here when Britain stood strong." He didn't mention that he hadn't been on Earth contiguously, nor even in chronological order. But that was the trick with the fae; you told the truth, and if anyone misinterpreted what went unsaid, well that was hardly your fault, was it?

"Very well," Oberon said. "Speak."

He took one last steadying breath, then faced the multitude of creatures. "You are all making a mistake." The crowd didn't like that. "Now... listen!" he said over the hissing and growls.

"Are you advocating war?" a minotaur yelled.

"No." He held up an admonishing finger. "That would kill this planet. But this whole vote is wrong. You've only given yourselves two choices: fight and die, or flee and die. You can't divide everything into two sides."

"There is Light and Dark," Titania said. "Day and Night. Good and Evil."

"What about grey?" the Doctor shot back. "And twilight? And... and 'morally ambiguous'?" He turned back to the crowd. "I know it has been your tradition to see things as sharply divided. And I know it has been your tradition to never, ever change your traditions. But things that never change only stagnate and die. Even rocks change! Even a planet changes - I know you can all see that!

"You've only ever seen humans as your enemy. Or as amusing little monkeys: cute, but ultimately unimportant. Maybe it's about time you started seeing them as allies. Perhaps even equals."

He had to jump back, as the closest alfar nearly flew at him in a rage. "Whoa! Okay, perhaps not quite 'equals,' then. But you have to admit - they are in control of this planet."

"They are killing this planet!" a goblin screeched.

"Fair enough!" the Doctor called. He put his hands out, palms forward. "They have made terrible mistakes. Bad decisions. But-! They are learning. Humans are slow." He silently begged forgiveness from his human friends. "But the fae are patient! They _can_ be taught! And you can be the ones to teach them.

"Every time a human child sees the magic of a flower blooming..." He paced the stage, his voice weighted with empathy. "Every time they see the wonder of the falling snow... Every time they behold the beauty of a butterfly in flight... That is when you gain an ally! That is when they learn to love and respect this world. Those are the ones who become the men and women who will save this world.

"And they can't do it by themselves." He flapped his arms in frustration. "They're just... monkeys grubbing in the dirt. They just don't _see_. They need that spark of magic. They need dreams to fuel their imaginations. Yes, even nightmares! The horror and pathos that can forge the human soul into something strong and magnificent." He stopped and sighed deeply.

"All I'm saying is," he gestured upward; "this tree does not have to burn. This tree does not have to die. It may shed its leaves and become dormant, but..." He lifted the black leaf before his eyes. "It can become green again in the spring." He willed the leaf to turn green. A magical, fresh spring green. He willed it with all his hearts.

But Time Lords don't have magic.

"Well," the Doctor said meekly. "You'll do what you feel is best." He let the blackened leaf fall from his hand. Head down, he stepped from the dais and headed back towards the TARDIS.

===#===

* * *

_End Notes:_

Oh, well... I didn't say his meddling would accomplish anything, did I? ;P


	11. Unfinished Business

Torchwood/Dr Who: The Collar

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/humor

Language: none

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

Just like on television, where the later in the show you get, the more often there are commercial breaks...! This is really short; I'll post the last piece in a day or so,

More complaints about men never calling. What IS their problem?

* * *

**Part 11: Unfinished Business**

===#===

Jack was digging around in the Hub's tool chest when the day cycle lights came up. Ianto found him a few minutes later. "You're back," he said with a start. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"And where were you all weekend?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

Jack stopped and looked back at him. "Because I can't."

For once the unflappable Welshman looked as if he were sorely tempted to pry. Then perhaps Jack could give him another clue. Ianto was smart, he'd figure it out. But no, as usual, he just accepted it. "You couldn't call?"

"No signal." Jack returned to pawing in the depths of the tool chest.

"What are you looking for?" Ianto asked him.

"A pair of pliers."

"What's that in your hand?"

Jack looked at him again and gestured with the pliers he held. "One pair. I need two."

"For...?"

"To get this chain off my neck."

Ianto's eyebrows went up a notch. Jack obligingly tilted his head so Ianto could see the collar. Ianto blinked. But he so did not ask. "There's a bolt-cutter in-"

"I don't want to cut it. I just need pliers to open the ring. Isn't there another pair anywhere?"

"I'll go check my toolkit upstairs."

===#===

Ianto met Gwen as she was coming through the door. "Jack's back."

"Aye? Did he say where he's been?"

"Of course not. Some S&M retreat or something, near as I can figure."

She rolled her eyes. "Did you chew him out for not calling?"

Ianto put on a mock-aghast look. "I wouldn't dream of denying you the priviledge."

===#===


	12. The Vote

Torchwood/Dr Who: The Collar

**Content:**

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Drama/Humor

Language: none

Violence: no

Nudity: no

Sex: no

Other: no

_Author's Notes:_

You weren't fooled in the least, right?

* * *

**Part 12: The Vote**

===#===

No one stopped nor spoke to the Doctor as he walked to the amphitheater exit. He kept his head down and his hands in his pockets. It wasn't really up to him to decide the fate of an ancient race like the fae. Ancient and stubborn. Rigid. Completely unreasonable. They were rational beings, capable of making their own decisions.

As he neared the door, a whirr of cicada wings caught up with him. He half-turned. A small pixie hovered before him, glowing a faint luminescent green. She dropped something into his hand. "This I give freely."

He caught it. It was a small green leaf, still curled tightly in on itself. The Doctor's face lit up. "Oh, thank you!"

"Thank you," the pixie said in a completely un-fae show of gratitude. She darted forward and touched him on the nose. A spark lit briefly, tickling. Then she whirred off.

The Doctor turned to watch her go, and he saw the great oak. Black leaves were falling from its branches like soft rain. Yet as he continued to watch, green sprouts began to glimmer on the twigs and boughs. The tree was still dark, but the buds began to glow softly.

Still smiling, the Doctor went back to the TARDIS with a light step. He went inside and found a clear round storage unit to keep the delicate leaf in. He hung it from one of the support struts.

"There! Another disaster of epic proportions averted!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them with glee. "Now, how about a bit of R and R, shall we?" He dashed around the central console, adjusting levers and flipping switches with practiced ease. The TARDIS' engine fired up with its universally unique sound.

_Kwah-rhuuuhm... Kwah-rhuuuhm... Kwah-rhuuuhm... Kwah-rhuu-huh-huh-ktk-ktk-ktk-kk-kk-kk kpphfft._

"Kpphfft?" the Doctor imitated, spraying a bit of spittle. "What kpphfft? There's no kpphfft!" Frowning, he snapped a few switches. The engine remained stubbornly silent. He went through the prep sequence again, then threw the starter bar.

_Kwah-rhuu-hu-hu-hu-hu-hu-hu-huuk_ was all he got. He tried again, and even again, but the engine just wouldn't tick over.

"I don't understand," he told no one in particular. He slid the monitor over and checked the externals. They _had_ moved. The TARDIS now stood outside the regular Galway Hotel. Then it had stalled. "But the energy tanks are topped off. The capacitors aren't incapacitated..." The Doctor flipped a switch again to triple-check. "What could possibly be wr-?" His eyes alit on the mobile phone sitting on the console. "Noooo." Reluctantly, he picked it up. "Come on, you can't expect me to remember how t- oh."

The little screen still said '*3,' just how Jack had left it. And the big button right under it, labeled 'DIAL' was kind of hard to miss.

===#===

"And that is why we have this latent primitive technology called 'a land-line,' Jack." Gwen was really chewing him out.

"Okay, okay, I promise! The next time I'm perfectly safe and nothing is happening, I'll be sure to phone up and tell you so!"

"Oooooh, _men!_" Gwen ranted. "You just can't pick up a bloody phone and call, can you?"

"Yeah, it's a guy thing."

"I give up!" Gwen tossed her hands in the air and left the office.

Ianto scooted past her and handed Jack another pair of pliers. Then he went to check on today's batch of coffee.

Jack propped a mirror up on his desk so he could see what he was doing. Though it took a lot of strength, it wasn't difficult to twist the large ring enough to create a gap to slip the jump rings to the chain off.

He ran the smooth metal between his fingers, ensuring the chain didn't twist. Then he linked the ring back on to close it into a loop once more. He held it between his hands a minute, watching the metal gleam. He wondered if Cat would return to the Otherland when they closed the Gateways, or if she'd stay on Earth. If she stayed on this side, she'd most likely lose her powers. And be truly homeless. Either way, he'd probably never see her again.

Which was probably best.

He dropped the chain into the lower drawer of his desk. He shoved it closed with his foot as the phone rang. He grabbed it. "Harkness."

"Uh... Hello, Jack? I'm sorta in town a while..."

Jack's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. For a moment, he was speechless. "Doctor? Are you... actually calling me?"

"Um, yes. So... how about we go out for a pint?"

"You're calling me and asking me to go out for a drink?"

"Oh, well... if you're _busy_..."

"No no no no! Not at all! Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

===#===

* * *

_End Notes:_

There was more fluff and nonsense they could talk about, and a joke about giving the TARDIS a jump-start. But... best to leave all that to the reader's imagination!


End file.
